This was my first time writing fanfiction, so please go easy on me for any out-of-character moments.
The transmigrated character in this book came from a world of my own creation. If the response was good, I would consider writing a separate book set in that world.
Now, on to the story.
Snow and ice covered the land, surrounded by mountains, with not a soul in sight. In the silence, a red spatial gate appeared and vanished. A young man knelt on one knee, leaning on a red xiuchun blade, a smear of blood pressed into the snow beneath him. The wounds on his body gradually healed, his deep blue eyes turned black again, and the red glow of his blade slowly faded. He collapsed into the snow...
"Kafka, he's over there!" In the freezing weather, a mech appeared and looked toward a woman of about thirty. The woman took off her sunglasses, revealing an intriguing expression:
"At last, we found him. This guy has a very important role in Elio's 'script'..."
She then turned to a middle-aged man. "Blade, carry him back." Without a word, the man hoisted the young man onto his shoulder and left without looking back.
"Looks like they'll be here soon too..." The woman gazed into the wind and snow once more, then departed shortly afterward.
"Where... am I?" The young man woke up in a bed, his head throbbing. He was about to get up when a woman's voice rang out. "Don't move yet. You need to rest."
The young man turned his head and saw a mech standing there. "You... are a girl?" The mech looked at itself and replied shyly, "This is a mech! I'm inside it!" The young man had been curious why a girl would meet people while wearing a mech, but as a "captive," he didn't seem to be in a position to ask so many questions.
Before long, the sound of a door opening rang out. "He's awake?" Soon, the young man felt an icy hand help him sit up, and a woman and a mech came into view.
"Miss, where am I?" The young man searched his vocabulary, trying to put together something pleasant to say. "That's a nice way to address me, but never mind," the older woman said first. "My name is Kafka. Or perhaps you know a more famous name: 'Stellaron Hunters.'"
The young man looked puzzled, as though he had never heard the term before. Kafka shook her head. "So... you've completely lost your memory?" The young man nodded. He couldn't even remember his own name.
"In any case, we brought you aboard this ship for one purpose: to have you join us. Otherwise, we'll leave you out in the snow and ice to fend for yourself." Kafka's expression seemed to say that none of it was open to negotiation, and the young man naturally knew he had no choice:
"I choose to join you!"
The mech, which had been silent at their side, was the first to speak, a distinctly girlish voice coming from it. "Hello, my name is Firefly!" The young man replied, "Hello, though I don't have a name yet..."
Kafka gazed at him for a moment before speaking slowly. "How about we call you 'Hanxing'?" The young man nodded. "Hanxing? That's a nice name."
Firefly picked up a phone and a pair of headphones from the side and handed them to Hanxing. "These are your welcome gifts!" Hanxing looked at the case on the back of the phone, where a deep blue star shone with a dark, profound light beneath a xiuchun blade.
"What's this?" Hanxing looked at the phone case, slightly puzzled. "Elio had it custom-made for you. Maybe it can help you recover your memory." Kafka chimed in, then pulled a black cloth off something in the corner, revealing the keen edge of a xiuchun blade.
"You seemed to have brought this with you. Take it for now." With that, she tossed the blade to Hanxing. He caught it with one hand, and a corner of the fog that swept over him was illuminated.
"Blade of Ending, 'Eternal finality,' Power of Dimensions... What are all these?" Hanxing shook his head. The moment he touched the blade, he remembered its origins, but nothing else beyond that...
"Now then, I'll take you to meet the others." Hanxing nodded. The massive steel doors opened, and two figures appeared amid the snow and ice.
"Hey, if you're standing here in front of us, that means you're one of our teammates now." A girl whose clothes were unsuited to the freezing weather spoke first. "This is Silver Wolf, our genius hacker," Kafka added, before introducing him to Silver Wolf. "This is Hanxing."
"Looks like you just came up with that name." Silver Wolf looked at Hanxing with interest. "Kafka's talent for naming things really knows no bounds. Speaking of which, do you play games?"
"Games?" Hearing the unfamiliar term, Hanxing shook his head. After all, he hadn't even figured out how to use his phone. Silver Wolf turned away helplessly. "Is it really this hard to find someone to team up with?"
Ignoring Silver Wolf's complaints, Kafka turned to another man, who had black hair and held a longsword. "This is Blade, an 'important part of our combat strength.'" Blade shook his head helplessly. "Just call me Blade."
"Oh, right, there's also Elio, but you probably won't get to meet him anytime soon." Kafka seemed to remember something else and added, "Those are the members of the Stellaron Hunters, along with you, our newcomer, of course."
As Hanxing took in the enormous amount of information, he asked the question on his mind. "So, what does our organization do?"
"In outsiders' eyes, we hunt Stellarons." Firefly paused. Her changing expression couldn't be seen beneath her mech's mask, but she slowly grew resolute. "But within the group, we follow Elio's 'script' and find ourselves..."
"Find... ourselves?" Hanxing fell silent. Though he had nowhere to go, this organization suited his current situation rather well.
"In any case, welcome to the Stellaron Hunters family!" Firefly's cheerful voice brought the introductions to an end, and Kafka spoke again. "When we found you, there was a pool of blood beneath you. You were probably badly injured when you arrived here. Go get some rest first. We'll talk about the rest tomorrow."
"I'll take you to your room!" Firefly volunteered. Hanxing nodded. "All right, let's go."
Watching Hanxing walk away, Kafka and Silver Wolf began whispering to each other. "Why is he so important?" Kafka replied, "Elio said so. All we can do is believe..."